


Karma

by Moonpeach



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Brooke goes through a lot of emotions, F/F, Partying, Polyamory, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-08 07:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7747888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonpeach/pseuds/Moonpeach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brooke looks at her the way a person would look at a car accident happening in motion. She doesn't know what to say other than stare and pose a gaped mouth upon her lips like the words have stuck in her throat.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Max reiterates,<br/>"Well I mean it's true. Kate likes you, and I like you so I think that maybe this could work....right?"</p><p>Her mouth is a loose, then slopes, hands gathering at the base of her cheeks; trying her best to withhold a grip on herself. This is so hilariously ridiculous.</p><p>"I'm losing my fucking mind..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karma

Brooke is not a people person, she doesn't to know what she is. 

It's like whenever she gets the urge to say something and do things and understand cues from the perspective of friends and strangers alike, it doesn't happen the way that it’s supposed to. The way that she wants it to, and for some reason she hates it. 

 

So she doesn't talk to people and she doesn't make contact and she doesn't focus herself with the world around her besides through the lights of a touchscreen or a drone in the sky, or even the makings of a gameboy. 

Those things suit her better, she feels more complete with it; in balance, more familiar. 

Of course it can't always be this way, and of course she can't always rely on it all the time. There are times where you're gonna have to grow up and face people the way you're meant to when you're still young and learning and supposedly making friends the way children should. 

Brooke's not good at any of that, she doesn't even try. Experience has told her she shouldn't waste effort on people who are just gonna wan away from you in a year, experience has told her that you shouldn't waste the effort on some things that’ll tune out of grasp the moment she’s had them in hand. Feeling out of alignment with herself; and it is experience that has told her that trying anything or even so much has hassling yourself to make others like you doesn’t really help to that effect either. 

Making friends is hard she's aware, but maybe that's why she over thinks the concept when Stella comes around, or when Dana came around. The first two of many that have ever shown her any kind of approach. Then it was Alyssa who stepped up. However long it took for them to be comfortable, and then Warren, and then Juliet, and then Max...

And then Kate. 

Kate. there's something about her especially, Brooke doesn't know what it is, she can't place it anywhere what the odd wrenching, gut churning, awful head banging, yelling into the middle of the night kinda feeling this is. It's weird and stupid; unsettling to the core where it fluctuates in and out into a beat that’s suffocating, and yet exciting all at once..Exhilarating, something she anticipates to have, something she thinks about on a constant. 

Something in the way of Kate makes her think. Makes her thread through a flutters of flips in her stomach and toss about a sensation of eccentric matter that would send her gravitating; it’s weird and scary to her, like the thoughts are foreign and out of place; so much so that it makes her wanna barf. That last part seems harsh, but if Brooke could explain it any other way it would be chaos of really intransitive words in her head, bouncing off the tips and ends and means and --what is this? Why won't it go away? 

Brooke like boys she tells a herself, Brooke likes boys. It's reminded in the way she looks at someone, a certain brown hair dull eye rocket scientist who won't shut up, can't stop talking about his favor in somebody else. It's reminded in the way she tries. Tries with all her heart and mind and whatever else is trying to keep the peace amidst the chaos to like, feel for, falling for some boy who really isn't worth her time of day. 

So it's like this: Brooke will break a curse in herself to say that she likes this boy, tries to tell herself that one day he's gonna come to his senses, drop the other like a lit match and give her some peace of mind. Albeit all the screaming in her head tells her to give it up. Give up it's not happening. 

And it's like this, maybe she's just kidding herself, because at the same time, none of this is true, and she doesn't really like this boy and she doesn't really like Warren and she doesn't really get along with him as well as she thinks she does. And maybe she is leaning towards someone else. Her mind leading her elsewhere on the fixture of a girl she’s only just met a couple of weeks ago. 

In a courtyard where the skies were pink and she’s flying a drone over a window; the blanket of it’s wings casting shadows over a girl sitting out and watching; it’s never been thought about till now. The sign of interest the girl had that day when it seems like her eyes study the figure of Brooke; a light of grace with a soft smile, and Brooke remembered smiling back but never really understanding the meaning behind it. They’ll meet each other on a whim later, collecting names, phone numbers, and laughter, Brooke never forgot. 

 

Kate and her relationship is an odd one, Brooke doesn't know where she stands on it ( Are they friends? Are they acquaintances? Are they more than this? What are they? ) and don't ask her about it because Brooke's mind swarms devaluing the answers herself, late at night contemplating. 

 

She would ask but asking requiring talking to people and talking to people about any of it means getting into things she'd rather not talk about. Really really really icky emotional scrambles of feelings, like she’s unsure of herself about it, which in itself to her sounds awful, because she doesn’t like the plight of uncertainty when it comes to herself. 

She could ask Dana, but Dana is a social level ahead of Brooke's time, she's a walking figment of popularity, a person you could look up to inspire, she's probably not gonna have the time of day as busy as she gets.

She could ask Alyssa but Alyssa isn't really much of a console for this kinda shit either; A temperamental mutual link between not being able to figure out feelings? Go figure! 

 

Juliet is out of the question, Warren is a big fat N O  
And Max….well she'd be damned. 

 

The only other one left is Stella. Stella with the big glasses and the knowing looks and the inquisitive look she gives through the tints that says " I know what you're thinking, I can read what's going on better than you can read your own self and Brooke wants to die because talking to Stella is a lot harder than it should be about anything. 

She doesn't want to ask, but she has no other options, she's ripped them all up from the roots, talking to people is hard, she hates it and hates everything else. 

But she goes to Stella and she asks, and Stella doesn't have that god awful knowing look on her face this time around when Brooke's mind is doing a flip flop between saying things and explaining shit and nothing’s really coming out right that way that she wants it too. 

 

It's like a freight train running rampant and Brooke's close to imagining herself being the one getting ran over on the tracks. What's this feeling I'm getting? what is this what is this what is this?

It's all at once screaming at her, and Stella can't pinpoint it herself but eventually it all clicks together, and there's that look in her eyes, the one Brooke hates so much she wants to imagine cracking it away with her fingers. 

"Dude, you like her." 

Brooke calms down from a heat of something flaring in her chest, blinking twice, the tracks on her train of thought are hooting sharply on the breaks; halting. She blinks.

"What?" 

Stella repeats herself, not because she's trying to sound condescending on the matter, but because Brooke needs a better understanding of it than she's brought on for. And it goes on explained and the further and further it goes, the more and more of it doesn't sound right. 

"But.. that can’t be it.” 

Her brains churns it together, it's like an error in her head; something belligerent. Stella only twists a face together closing her mouth and somehow Brooke is leaving that room half confused and half jolted apart, carefully over thinking herself. Her head, her heart, her chest swallowing up the air as she makes it for the outside for a place to hide and lie down and think. 

 

\------

Brooke doesn't like girls, that what she had said to herself, girls are nice and girls are people she's more easier to talk to and girls aren't as awful and distasteful as some boys come off . They're made up in the friends she has in the people she tries so hard to confide in. But liking them in that way, that's not something she's ever thought about . Not something she's ever really gave much mind to other than the constant yet consistent idea of it being a loose thought in her head. 

Brooke doesn't understand it because that can't be what this is, that can't be what's going on, not with people like Kate. There’s a lot going on there but the feelings behind it are complicated.

Like how Kate has this vibrant pull over her systems, how Brooke kinda gravitated towards her being and herself and is self aware of these actions despite not seeing much meaning behind it. 

How Kate is always so sweet and always willing to talk to her first, despite having others around. It’s in the way Kate makes her feel, makes her jump up with some unknown excitement in Brooke’s eyes that make them light up upon the other girl. How Kate always looks so nice and always so cheerful and always smiling even when the world’s crushing down on everybody else.

And it makes Brooke a little irritated because her state of mind is switching in and out of what these feelings truly are to her. Are they real? Are they true? Or is this just something else?  


 

Kate hangs around Max a lot. 

Brooke doesn't know why it bothers her so much, throwing on a straight face, trying not to crack. _'What's to be mad about?'_ her brain tries to argue on it and she keeps telling herself she doesn't know why and chooses not to feel anything about it, but then she gets a glimpse of them together in the courtyard.

Standing off to the side with Kate,she’s there conversating and withholding laughter through a closed fist, all big smiles and googly eyes and grey sweaters and for god's sake Max Caulfield why is it always you? 

She watches them off to the side standing in the grass. Polaroid camera and a book on a bench "click click click!” There's a girl in blue and a cloud of laugher and other things going on that Brooke just doesn't know how to process any of it. Holding the drone controller in her hands, an odd sensation of unease washes over her. 'What's to be mad about?' she says, they're having fun, Kate is okay, Kate is happy. 

 

She keeps telling herself that same bit of information over and over, says it all to the way back to the dorms, back to her room, back to her bedside contemplating, thinking irrational. She doesn't understand what it is. 

 

It's like a bubbling feeling of acid dripping over a gaping wound inside of her; she feels nauseous, lurching over not careful with her hands.They go and reach at nothing; she’s looking at things and staring at pictures and looking to the ceiling, the thoughts of wanting to throw her head against the wall produced intrusively. 

Something in her mind tells her it isn't fair and she would sit back with a bit of a bitter smile on her face and argue with 'well fuck all to that buddy I don’t even get the whole of these feelings anymore'. Hitting her head to a pillow, she drifts off feeling less angry and more sad. 

 

\-----------

She can't be mad at Max, Max didn’t do anything wrong. Max has unknowingly been the image of resentment in the pathway of Brooke's glares. Or Brooke's overbearing comments, or how Brooke needs to compare the two of them together over silly trivial things that wouldn't mean--shouldn't mean jack shit to two well on the their way teens to adults. 

Brooke wants to be angry but there's nothing to be angry about, and she wants to get in Max’s face and say something and she wants be petty, wants to be sad, wants to scream to the skies because damnit why the fuck can't I just have the same things? Why do things happen this way? where are these feelings coming from?

It's said like a millions times over that she doesn't understand it, and maybe it's because she's trying too hard to or that she's not trying hard enough , or that she's avoiding the reasons why, and maybe she just needs another break, another talk with Stella to really help herself out here. Because all of whatever this is, isn’t helping her calm down and maybe what these feelings are really aren’t just odd thoughts clouding up the space in her head. 

It's something alright, it's something. It's something about Max and it's something about Kate, despite the contrary it has little to do with them being around one another . Really it does.She concurs with it , but beyond that the slate is painting itself blank with answers.

 

She doesn’t hate Max, and she doesn’t hate Kate. They're both good people with good hearts and somewhat better intentions than most. At least from what Brooke can tell, and Stella will laugh with awareness in her voice every time Brooke gets caught staring or making eye contact with Max, or smiling ways with Kate. She denies any allegations, even if met with the obvious. The feelings keeps on coming back, it’s definitely something.

\-------------------------  
As the days fly by and through late discussions with Stella, Brooke is coming more and more to terms with the fact that she might like girls. 

She's had a lot to think about, a lot to process. Her brain occupied with science and anxiety and the splitting images of Kate. Of soft smiles and bold laughter, of a brown hair girl with a camera clicking at her fingers and then she loses concentration. 

It’s become abundantly clear that these feelings before were only just the first signs of a crush washing over Brooke in a wave, she’s been doused by it for weeks and only coming into the realization of it makes her wish she saw it coming sooner. 

It’s Thursday when she's sitting out on the quad and messing with a gameboy when Kate is on her merry way coming towards her with a smile too pretty and too thin and Brooke loses her focus again on the fight match in her lap, staring up. 

"Hi”, Kate starts, it's been what feels like a year in her head, a week in Kate's, and Brooke has nothing to say, stammering, fishing for words, the DS in her hands shakes. 

"Uh hey... What's up?" 

Kate is looking past the tree’s trunk, to the sun, it gives depths to the way the light reflects off her eyes, Brooke wants to slither her way in them, get lost somewhere. 

"How have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while." 

And it's then that Brooke remembers that it hasn’t been a year, it's not a month, it's been a week and she has no excuse for it. A wishy washy motive of - it's nothing, totally nothing, I haven't been wanting to dunk my head underwater in two days over the thoughts of you. 

"Nothing much", she starts, “I've just been busy. " 

And Kate understands it nodding. The book in her hand slips back near her chest, a title Brooke can’t really see but if the picture is anything to go by, it’s most like a fantasy tale.

"Do you have time? I know that things have been kinda busy around here but I would love it if we could walk back and talk if you're up for it.” Kate offers, and almost at once Brooke is ready to take it, ready to motored down and crash, ready to jump headfirst into a stammering mess on the grass. It’s too surprising. 

"Uh, sure.. I'm not doing anything."  
That earns her a smile, it melts the surface core around her, feeling shoulders bump, feeling something intense come over her, and Brooke lets the shaky nerves in her legs tidal wave over her senses, avoiding Kate’s gaze but taking the sidewalk alongside her when they go.

They walk and walk till they make it to the dorms and there is Max waiting outside with that camera and that damn smile on her face that lights up on sight of Kate's. 

The small talk Brooke had was short and full of awkward sentences, but at the very least she feels like a common friend. They're on a level with each other now, but it’s not the same as this she thinks. 

Watching them interact with arms and hands and subtle body language and googly eyes and laughs. She feels like it’s her cue to go, get out of there instead of sticking around and ruining the atmosphere for them, and she almost does till Max grabs her attention and reigns her in with a look that seems out of place and weirdly inviting. Brooke can't seem to put her finger on it but the vivid look in Max's eyes says something that makes Brooke’s stomach do a flip and she stops and stays back, staring.

“ Hang out with us for a little bit.”

In consequently, it's not as bad as she thought it was. They take off to Kate's room, a place full of life, benevolent and running on walls of violin songs and colorful pictures stacked to desk surfaces. Brooke has never really seen the insides of it before but through passing she’s had her thoughts about it. Not as descriptive but painting ways a picture that imposes a bit of what she sees a lot in Kate than anything else. When they take a step inside, it's not at all what she expects.

It's not the awful dreary stiff atmosphere of a space you’d find common in a church, but more cozy and vibrant encased in a scent of tea spells and soft music. Sitting herself in a beanbag, Brooke melts to the core looking up. Max and Kate sit on the bed, they left a spot but Brooke doesn’t want to invade the space. 

They talked about a lot of things, talk about their past lives, their ways of getting here, their families. Brooke doesn't particular fly into that last topic. Her family's not much to be considered of and she really doesn’t like the idea of talking about them all the more as she is resenting the thoughts piling in negatively over the conversation’s turn. But Kate understands,she feels the same way about hers but to a different degree as she explained it out in a delicate manner.

There's so much over sharing going on that Brooke thinks her secrets don't mean much else of value if she's talking. They don't mean much of secrecy or achievement or some god awful way of keeping things under wraps as much as she likes. 

But she's learned a lot from that night and she's learned about Max and she's learned about Kate. 

 

Learned about how Max's time in Seattle lasted over five years and how she sought out so much effort to come back here again in Arcadia. Learned about how Kate drinks her teas and how she has two sisters and a dad who worries over her while she’s away. 

She learned about a "long old friend", about violin lessons and why Max chose this school, and why Kate still wants to change the world. 

And then there's Brooke again, who hasn't said much but offered the answers of what she can. But it all doesn’t make sense because some of the answers aren’t even true and she's lying through most of it and her family isn't really all that terrible. It's just that through certain times of the years that have gone by, she's starting to shred herself away from that contact. 

She moved on to here because back there things were suffocating and people were always on her back about things so it was only natural to want a break away from that wasn't it? She seems to thinks so, even if it sounds ...a little awful.

Thinking about her family makes her feel bad, and Max can see it in her eyes whether Brooke cares to iterate that she's fine. “ You okay?” 

 

Yeah everything's fine. Everything is okay cheerios.

Brooke can see Max wants to pry into it, but she backs off a moment later, probably thinking no and nodding her head slightly in ; and Brooke almost breaks off to tell her that no it’s fine, this only happens once or twice, don’t be sorry. But it never comes out, and she declines looking to them and looking elsewhere; her body melting with the bag’s weight beneath her. 

She’s gonna be okay,if anything else she’s more aware in feeling better about getting whatever it was off her chest than having to sit by and say nothing. 

So she thinks fuck it , and she thinks drop it, and she says it again I'm okay. 

And they both believe her regardless. 

\-----------------  
It's a week later when Max and Kate become a fixture of good times and bean bag weights in the presence of Brooke's room. They hang about each more often than not and Brooke somehow feels like she's being included somewhat into whatever this is. 

She's getting used to the hangout getting used to them, it beats much else than whatever else is going on and it's later on in realization that Brooke starts to enjoy the company. 

She doesn’t spend much time with them together, but on the separate occasions it becomes abundantly clear to her. 

On the days with Kate, where they spend it listening to songs, and talking over coffee tables, where Brooke is finding herself within the same vicinity as before, watching Kate strum careful fingers over a violin, and showing Kate her many games on the DS and the movies she’s bumped off of Stella. Kate’s never undoing smiles, simply beaming and pulling strings at Brooke’s heart; and Brooke’s appreciating the company as much as she can, this is good enough she thinks, and when the day comes where Kate is laughing and telling her softly with a smile over a field of grass and wet sneakers of how much she enjoys all this, Brooke looks on in thought.

On the days where Brooke spends it with Max, where they spend it passing moments on polaroid cameras and snarky comebacks. Where they go to the beach, Kate sometimes in tow,  
Walking over sand and stumbling into pouring waves. Brooke will slip and catch Max’s hand, the sun cracking the smile upon her mouth where dimples make mountains and freckles light like little islands across both ends of Max’s cheeks. She’s laughing, while another picture snaps in the background. Brooke is lost in brown eyes before she’s pulled up with a touch of sea salt grazing her lips and Max has never looked so pretty in the sunlight… 

It’s becoming abundantly clear here that yes there is something, she’s starting to notice it and frankly, it makes her heart hurt all the more. 

 

\-----------------

Stella invites Brooke to a party, 

It’s a small rager that’s been planned out for a long time in a house a couple blocks away from campus grounds; one of Stella’s friends. Brooke never really got into the spirits of going to places she’s never really been keen enough to go out for, much less hang about in someone’s house for a good two hours of god knows what amongst sweaty bodies and loud music. 

She almost declines it, making a face when asked, but Stella insists that it’ll be fine, and that she’s gonna be there herself and wants a friend to come along since Alyssa was unavailable. 

She’s pursing her lips together where else Stella is pulling a face that’s short of nothing close to pleading. Is this party really that important?

It’s several seconds of nothing, and several seconds of thinking and then her shoulders are shrugging indefinitely to the offer. Hey it’s one party, it’s not like she hasn’t willingly gone out of her way to a Vortex one in a blue moon or hung around one of Dana’s whenever she planned it. 

This one couldn’t hurt, and if it’s shit, well she’ll be in walking distance of the school. 

Stella seems elated enough, and winks at Brooke in a way that make her brows furrow and wave them off with a promise to see each other later for it. 

Later comes, and she feels like she’s less prepared for anything that’ll come and take her by storm, Stella is knocking on her door before the clock is clicking a quarter past seven, grabby hands and excitement pouring in at the seams when Brooke is pulled from her stocky, less anti social bout of subconscious , out into the hallways and down the stairs in minutes. 

The cool autumn air is tugging onto her loose sweater when they take to a running walk down the sidewalk, By the time they’ve hit a half block down the way, music is already echoing down the street of a small neighborhood, people walking to and from, taking over space on the sidewalks and the grass, and the porch. Brooke is already feeling the unease roll over her shoulders just looking at the crowd but she can only hope it’s not as jam-packed as it is outside. 

It’s not thankfully, and they actually have places to sit down and rest, the unsteady beats in their lungs catching a break when she pulls out the phone at the table nearby a pool of drinks and snacks. On and off her mind crosses over a small text from Kate, pictures of bunnies and her latest days spent with Max cross over the screen in finger tabs.

It makes Brooke smile a little at how cheesy Kate can get with each word typed out in a way that’s so cutesy and devoid of sadness. But at the same time makes her pensive, tense up and revel in a feeling that shouldn’t be apparent for Brooke anymore now that she’s so inured with both girls. 

She knows what it is called, but she’ll be damned if she allowed it to show, not here, not now.  
She’s better than that. They’re happy. 

And somehow she's not? But that’s not true either is it. 

Someone is trying to get her attention, fingernails tapping gently over the counter before a hand wave speedy motion over her screen. It annoys and disrupts her train of thought, enough to look up and spy Stella giving her a look.

“ Hey, you doing okay?”

It comes off as concerning and imposing, with a tilted head leaning forward, eyes flooding to the lit up screen. 

“ Who are you texting?” 

Her hands are flying over, covering the screen, as if Stella didn’t get a good enough look, as if she didn’t read the name at the top of the bar, as if the whole situation isn’t all the more obvious right now than it’s ever been and Brooke hopes to some cosmic entity in the sky that Stella doesn’t ask-- doesn’t say--

 

“ Was that Kate?” 

Brooke's eyes are rolling over in circles, eliciting a soft click of her tongue hitting the roof of her mouth. Of course. 

This must be karma for never saying much to Stella in the first place. 

Brooke looks up, expecting a face, but seeing nothing but curiosity running high behind thin glasses. 

“ Yeah, it was..” 

There’s a noise that sounds off like a short giggle and an “oooh” from Stella’s mouth hiding a grin with a closed fist; Brooke is pulling back fast in her seat already aware of where this is going.

“ It’s not what you think.”

“ Oh my god come on, “ Stella smiles, a spread of astute air punctuates the expression upon her face. A kinda way she’d point out is her way of saying the obvious. “ Really?” 

“It’s not what you think” Brooke repeats, and she wants to run her hands over her face and turn away from the conversation at hand, they haven’t even been at this place for more than an hour and already she’s through with it. 

“ So then what is it then?” She prods, leaning over the counter, her arms fixed over a cup nearby, pushing slightly off to the side. Brooke’s eyes follow, seemingly ignoring the question.

She doesn’t know what it is, really she doesn’t, and if she could explain it, it wouldn’t come out right. Just odd rambles of mixed feelings. She doesn’t say much again, and for the fifth in a row today, Brooke is stiff on the answer.

 

“You’re crushing..”

Brooke doesn’t even have time to blink.“ What?”

 

There’s that knowing look bending along the expression of Stella’s face. Brooke can see it under the dim lights of the overhead kitchen fan, it makes her wanna scowl. “ I said you’re crushing.”

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  


Brooke come on..” Stella jabs at the side of Brooke’s elbow, Brooke is tempted to slap it away, baring teeth. “ I don’t have a crush.” 

“ Brooke.” 

And it’s in said in a such a tone that let’s Brooke knows she’s bullshitting it, lets her know this conversation isn’t gonna drop for anything that’ll take the spotlight off of her for a moment. Stella looks like she’s entitled to be annoyed; which Brooke would laugh in her face and say hell no you don’t’ because none of that is true, and I’d rather boil myself in a pit of lava than ever come around to admitting it. 

“ Why do you care so much?” it’s blurted out roughly, like it wasn’t it made to come out that way, more of a demand than a question. Stella raises a brow.

“ Because.”

“ Because what?” 

Stella crosses arms over the table, observingly overlooking the phone then back to Brooke, like she knows something the other doesn’t. “ Because it’s just obvious, the way that you always hang around Kate, always wanting to talk to her. You say you don’t have anything going on between you two, and okay that’s seems fair, but honestly even I can tell there’s something more going on.” 

Brooke feels like her head’s being dunked underwater, restrainedly fighting the urge to say something and nothing at all, because she doesn’t really have to admit it. She doesn’t really have to say anything, if at all she can blindly remove all feelings about it altogether while still receding back on her thoughts, on her words, teeth grating against the bottom corners of her lip. 

She doesn’t know what to say about it, other than reply with it in her head that it’s all a blatant lie and how that’s not the case. Kate is nice, Kate is sweet, she’s a figment of what the good in the world looks like and is.

There’s nothing that’s awful about her, even with the actual bundles of feeling rousing in and out of her chest at alarming rates and yet Brooke will turn a blind eye to any and all accusations on her account within the means of “crushes” and “googly eyes” and all that bullshit schoolyard lovey dovey nonsense. 

Kate is nice but Brooke doesn’t have a crush, and Stella should stop talking so loudly about it in such a public place. 

There is no crush, there’s nothing there, there’s just…..

Fuck it. She knows she’s lying now. 

“ Alright Stella, you got me.” Brooke drawls it out slow, and full of something not as genuine as she makes it sounds. Raising her hands up in a mock wave of surrender. “ I’m in love with Kate Marsh. So hopelessly, fully, head over heels in love..”

At the last of the announcement, like it was even one to begin with, her expectancy of a surprised reaction is awarded to her greatly by Stella who seems piqued by it,a smile cracks the surface. 

“ I knew it---”

But also!” Brooke inputs, with a finger going up in the air, halting what could have been another round of Stella’s victory burst. “ While even as the information is stated to be true, we should also acknowledge some fact that it’s never gonna happen…” 

And she sees it, the pinning smile, peel off at the first sign, Brooke feels a swoop of something fervency beam inside her as she continues, she’s on a roll. 

“ Because let’s be honest with ourselves here, even if by some instance I were to say aloud to her that I’ve got a crush and that I've been crushing for the longest time now, it probably wouldn’t matter all that much right? Cause--cause let’s be honest here, I’m not exactly date material, and I know I’m not the best thing around, and I know I’m not nearly as good enough and my talk skills are beyond abysmal to point where I wouldn’t have told her to begin with anyways” 

She stops a couple of times, tongue clicking to the roof of her mouth, she tastes something sour and frowns. 

“And it’s not like she doesn’t already have someone better, she’s got Max and it’s clear to me that they’ve got a better click going on between them than anything I’ve ever have. Which is fucking funny too considering the fact all the times we’ve talked and done things together. But even still I was distant and awkward and just...awful.”

The real truth behind it, isn’t so much that she can’t open up and let others see in, Brooke’s always had the problem, but it’s never been addressed to anyone in particular. A not so great topic and an issue she’s aware, people are just not easy, even when they’re ones she’s grown more attached to in the span of only a month and a half. 

Feelings are weird, people are weird, she is weird, and she wants out of it.

Stella stands momentarily baffled at the rant being displayed so openly in front of her, unsure of what to say. 

“ Brooke…”

“ And this isn’t me trying to make a dig at Max or anything either, because I’m not, and as far as I know it, I’ve got feelings rolling across the table for her as well.” 

“Brooke..”

“ Which makes it all the more worst and confusing because what the fuck am I supposed to do?! Say something? Open up? This has been happening for two weeks and I’m still struggling!”

“ Brooke!”

Seizing ways out of her ranty binge and funk, Brooke is both startled and angry, staring towards Stella awaiting her response. Hands pulling up from the table in a spray outward in front of her. 

“ What?”

She expects something full of pity, like a face marked with ruth and words of understanding,but Stella isn’t looking towards her anymore, she’s looking off to the side. With one hand covering a corner of her mouth, Brooke is following her line of sight. 

It doesn’t take much to notice the familiar shape of brown hair and grey jacket stand in between the doorway of the kitchen silent. Max is presently staring holes where else Brooke feels ice line down her spine at the mere presence of her and her blue haired friend-Chloe was it? Looking down on her with a soft grin on her face too ludic that Brooke actually feels like throwing up and running head first into a wall. 

Oh god.

“ Oh man..” Stella says offhandedly, the same hand still cover parts of her mouth and Brooke’s had just about enough of this atmosphere; getting out of her seat. Any more of this and she’s gonna drown. She’s gonna die.

Somebody is calling out after her, Brooke doesn’t even bother to look back storming off and out into the sea of bodies and high music and uncomfortable stares and awkward silences and--

 

She’s out of the house and halfway down the sidewalk when a hand comes out to grab her, she stops only to swat back at it angrily lashing out at whoever bothered to chase her out here in the cold dark. She can still hear the music, even some ways out here beyond the trees down the street.  


She’s hoping it’s just Stella, at least then her anger can be justified but the image of cursing out her friend on the side of the street dissipates when the figure turns out to be Max- of all people. 

Fantastic. 

“Brooke hold on..” Max looks like she’s trying to get a hold of herself, breathing like she’s just ran a mile. There’s a crack in the sidewalk by her shoe, Brooke can’t stop staring at it. 

When nothing is said for a good few minutes, Max is stepping ways closer, withdrawing her hand; in reaction Brooke is pulling back, unnerved,biting her lip in nervous tic. How long was she standing there for?

“ How much did you hear..? She says finally, her eyes don’t dwell a path for Max to follow, seemingly avoiding looking her in the eyes. 

Max hesitates, licks her lips. “ More than enough..” 

Fantastic. 

“ You mean.. You were standing there the entire time I was ranting?” 

Max, however okay she is, her chest keeps rising and expanding as fast it does lowering and curving inward as she breathes- Jesus how far did she run for? Seems to finally look up with concern pulling at the eyes. “ No, I was-we showed a couple of minutes late. Around the time of like eight-ish I don’t know, but I didn’t get all of it just the last few parts..” 

 

Somehow that doesn’t make Brooke feel anymore better. She’s shuffling weight between her legs, never undoing her gaze from the floor to the other girl just a few spaces away from her. Max’s breath catches mist in the night and Brooke is once again conflicted to say anything. 

“ I’m sorry..”  
She’s closing her eyes, hands coming together in fists. Max hears and poses a confused look. 

“ For what?”

“ For having to hear any of that.” Brooke starts, and gradually her eyes are pulling down on the weight of searching Max’s. It’s a little too dark to really get a read on anything. Murky brown; there’s moonlight pouring over the backs and ends of Max’s hair behind her. 

“ I wasn’t gonna, I didn’t think that.. you should have-had heard it, I mean it wasn’t anything against you or negative really it wasn’t I just.. I can’t really--”

“ It’s fine.” Max waves a dismissive hand, shaking her head. “ It’s cool, none of it needs to be apologized for. I promise.”

“ No it does,” and she presses forward, coming out with it since the rest hadn’t yet to be spilled out in front of them anymore than it was being spit at across the damn table at the party. 

“ I didn’t want to come out like that, it made it sound so negative and wrong.Which it wasn’t, I’m not very good with explaining myself out to people, let alone speaking about my feelings. As you can tell, I’m not the most social bee in Blackwell…” 

“ Brooke it’s fine.” 

“ I’m really not very good at conveying this..”

“ Brooke it’s fine..”

“Stop saying it’s fine!!” 

Max halts, pulling backwards. Brooke has never really raised her voice this much; over the echos of soft lo-fi music and the breeze of the air bustling around them, it’s the first clear silence she’s had all night since leaving her room and she can’t say she wants to drown in it so much as she wishes this all never happened. 

“ It’s not fine, it’s never been fine. I’ve been struggling with the motions of whether or not these feelings I get around you or Kate are real or not, and for a long while I thought they weren’t. But as it turns out that’s wasn’t the case. 

Like when I’m around Kate, I get flutters and odd feelings that make me feel light and good and okay for a while, and there’s nothing I haven’t thought about her in terms of those feeling being realized up until much later when I just thought they would pass but they didn’t.” She pauses, catching her breath, “And then there’s you.” 

Max, wide eyed and all says nothing, the hard look on her face softening at the pass of each word. It almost looks like pity, Brooke wants to laugh. Yeah pity me. 

“ You’re just about the same as when I’m-- the feeling I get around Kate, it’s the same with you, and I don’t even know how to even describe anymore than I did about her but you can probably figure it out, you’re smart like that..I don’t know..”

This feels so awkward, the nausea tearing away at her chest when she finishes and turns away and doesn’t look anywhere. Doesn’t look at Max, doesn’t look towards the street when a car passes by, doesn’t say anything while the whole world turns and the night moves on without them. At some point she’s expecting the worst answer to come out from it, something along the lines of Brooke I’m sorry.. or Brooke it’s not like that. Or Brooke I never knew it was-

She closes her eyes, hands reaching for the glasses hanging loosely off the bridge of her nose. There’s probably a reason for all of this, maybe by some cosmic entity in the sky who's punishing her outright for never expressing it. Or through whatever imbalance in her life that’s causing it to crash down the way that it is right now before her. 

Or maybe it’s just Karma. A really really bad turn of events gone sour. 

It’s another minute of nothing in between the music that’s still echoing out amongst the trees when Max finally speaks up, her feet shuffling on the sidewalk when she raises up and says.

“Brooke you know the feelings are mutual...right?” 

That catches her off guard, immediately her head shoots up in confusion. What?

 

Max’s head is down, looking reticent, one arm is rubbing off onto the other. “ I mean, you probably didn’t know so excuse that first part, but in all honesty the feelings are mutual between us.” 

 

Brooke looks at her the way a person would look at a car accident happening in motion. She doesn't know what to say other than stare and pose a gaped mouth upon her lips like the words have stuck in her throat.

"What?"

Max reiterates,  
"Well I mean it's true. Kate likes you, and I like you so I think that maybe this could work....right?"

Her mouth is a loose, then slopes, hands gathering at the base of her cheeks; trying her best to withhold a grip on herself. This is so hilariously ridiculous.  


"I'm losing my fucking mind..."

“ I can assure you you’re not.” Max jokes, a smile creeping onto her lips however small it’s shown for; and Brooke is closing her eyes and processing that whole sentence again and again in her head trying to understand it because there’s no way she means that. 

There’s no way she’s being serious. 

“ This isn’t happening.. This isn’t real, you don’t really mean that do you? Like this isn’t me just dreaming or mixing up the words you just said am I? Ah- do I need to pinch myself?” 

And Max just shakes her head, coming closer, a hand nestles it way into Brooke's. She’s startled by the contact but settles, letting it happen, letting it take over. Max is soft and smooth in her palm. 

“ No you’re not dreaming, this is real, and I mean it.” She says, and suddenly whatever doubt has come to pull the wool over Brooke’s eyes has dispersed away in a cloud of smoke around her, heat reaching the tips of her ears as she gulps, looking away. 

“ Right, so.. I don’t need to pinch myself?”

Max doesn’t say anything else, just laughs and it reverberates further than the music down a block away. It sounds better than anything she’s heard all night, sounds nicer up close, like that time on the beach, where she’s falling and a hand is grabbing her up.  


The sun over brown hair painting strands gold, little islands of freckles on cheeks and then Brooke is pulled back to the present, still holding hands and suddenly she finds herself laughing too. 

\-----------  
When they make it back, her fingers twined with Max’s, it’s when Max goes out of her way to tell Brooke about the fact that they had brought Kate with them here as well. 

It surprises Brooke, because she certainly didn’t see Kate with them when she was back in the house an hour before storming off, As it turned out, the girls had showed up late. Kate taking a sit somewhere while Max and Chloe had went to originally go into the kitchen and get drinks and a snack or two. 

Originally, and Brooke somehow feels a little bad for having things happen the way that they did. But as they step inside, she more or less reassures herself that it's done and over with. there’s no real need to feel guilty about it anymore than she is happy with the result. 

Stella comes rushing to her side the moment she catches wind of Brooke and Max’s return. She had half a mind to come and get Brooke herself to apologize before Max offered to be the one to do it. Everything is okay, Brooke reassures Stella that she’s fine, everything’s fine and she can relax. To which Stella gives her a look that’s says something along the lines of "you so sure?” but then she sees Max tugging on to Brooke’s hand gently smiling and she backs off, a look of surprise coming over her. 

Chloe and Kate greet them when they come into the living room. Kate is wrapped in a small pink cardigan and skirt holding a glass of water when she spies Max and Brooke, and Brooke can just feel the sparks of flutters twirl flips in her stomach just looking at her.  


She smiles and scoot over to let them have a seat. The shaky nerves in Brooke’s legs carry her wobbly to the seat next to Kate, she seems relieved to see them both back, albeit was surprised to find that Brooke was here moments before she was. 

The butterflies in her Brooke’s stomach ricochet off in all directions, seemingly trying to speak, but nothing's really coming out short of a dry throat without any ailment.  


Max seems to be the one to fill up the silence for her, and she’s thankful for it, because at the moment her mind is still processing so much, taking everything little thing in while the whole world around her softens. Negative thoughts decay, she feels a hand reach for her other, taking it in warmth. Kate is smiling gently up at her, and Brooke can do nothing but smile back, letting this-whatever nameless feeling of love this is wash over her in showers. 

Throughout the ruckus of the party, and the music’s cultivating vibrations in the walls, Brooke is sitting between the figures of two girls, each holding on to a hand, touching legs and embracing smiles while a camera clicks in between the laughter, capturing each moment in polaroid definition and Brooke can’t say she’s never felt happier. 

It’s whatever this feeling is, it’s polite and fleeting and openly warming.  
In places where she doesn’t think much on the negatives or the whys or the hows of it. And for once in her life, she actually does feel better about the ways things turned out for her in the end. 

There’s a picture in the stack somewhere on the table where Kate and Max are grinning between pressing their lips gently to Brooke’s cheeks, Brooke looks down at it and Kate looks at her, a soft gleam of ardor swimming in light of her eyes. “ It’s nice.. Isn’t it?”  
And Brooke would break a smile, however small in comparison to the one in the picture.  


Yeah it is.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a journey and I had a little bit of trouble with it. But I kinda like the result of how this story went.  
> Plus I fixed all the errors.


End file.
